


Zelfarian's Memoirs

by Space_Prince_Fel



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Archfey, Dead Parents, Dragonborn (D&D), Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Elves, Half-Elves, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Temporary Character Death, Trolls, Werewolves, do not fuck with wild magic, honestly this protag was my first serious d&d character, like rpg trolls not homestuck trolls, not strictly set in 5e Faerun, novelization of my d&d character and his adventures, would give my life for elf twinks okay, writing campaign events from memory, yes the elf twink is my character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Prince_Fel/pseuds/Space_Prince_Fel
Summary: Trying to get back into writing with a novelization of my D&D character's life and adventures. Setting does not adhere strictly to 5e and much of the writing early on will be past tense and lacking in specific detail as I am struggling to recall early campaign events adequately. I legit joined in this campaign 2 years ago and did not always take notes at first lmao. Anyway my main goal aside from flexing the old writing muscles is to further develop this character (since he his still active) via fine tuning his view of past events.Zelfarian is a half drow elf sorcerer that I made 2 years ago to vicariously live out my dreams in life. Only a year and a half later he already achieved everything I want to have in real life; a husband, a home, a career, a child, and sweet financial stability.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

He was sure that he would die in that cave, held captive along with a few other adventurers and nobody out in the world to remember him. It had been a few days, his hunger finally dulled by the acceptance of his likely death. And then their saviors arrived, another ragtag group of adventurers. When they freed him, he eagerly helped in the fight against their captors. And just like that, they all returned to the adventurer’s den at Cassomir.

Zelfarian Blake Sable was eighty-six years old, though relative to the typical human aging rate he was around only twenty-eight. It was about twenty years prior that he took on adventuring. He decided that he didn’t want to stay in one place too long, or form any attachments. Just him discovering his magical abilities while exploring the world, though he certainly wouldn’t deny temporary bonds. He had no issue with that, despite his complete lack of interest in women. There were plenty of men who would be taken with a pretty half-elf like him, and his charismatic nature worked wonders in his favor. Even in more diverse cities he could stand out in a crowd. Aside from his distinct red hair, which was apparently uncommon for drow, his ashy skin had noticeable patches of silver scales, and his matching silver eyes were unmistakably draconic.

He decided to stick around with the group that rescued him. They were quite welcoming, and the embarrassing occurrence of him trying to intimidate one of them only to be scoffed at was quickly forgotten. That particular man seemed a natural leader, whether he intended to be such or not. Zelfarian decided he wanted to stay in his good graces. The group as a whole had two major objectives: investigate the catkin murders, and find a missing priestess.

Before their next move out of Cassomir, a wild magic storm partly thanks to the nearby magic school had left the city on lockdown. The lot of them stayed within the adventurer’s den for the night, drinking and enjoying the rowdy company of other adventurers. Looking back on that night, Zelfarian would say that was an evening that altered the course of his life. What had happened then that would have such a grand impact? It was nothing spectacular or particularly eventful, truth be told. To put in a simple, underwhelming summary: he got cockblocked.

It had been a while since Zelfarian sought any companionship. So he got himself a drink and scanned the crowd for anyone that would strike his fancy. It was a dragonborn that caught his attention, grey in color and built for combat. Slight advances were made and even reciprocated, and despite the dragonborn taking a shot spiked with wild magic and growing eyes on the back of his head, it was all going well. It would have been one hell of a hookup, too. So naturally the pent up energy he had exploded into frustration and fury when the party’s sort-of-leader, Koagal, put most of the tavern to sleep with his flute. Zelfarian lost his temper, the man’s magic not escaping his notice. Was throwing a dagger at him in the middle of a crowded tavern a wise decision? Absolutely not. But it happened, and worse yet, he missed. The dagger landed into the shield of a red dragonborn, who was unamused. Zelfarian would perhaps later admit that there was no talking himself out of that situation. Though it was a moot point, since someone else attacked the red dragonborn after he tried to retaliate. The tavern was utter chaos after that, with brawls going on into the late hours. Zelfarian resigned to going to bed alone that night.

The next morning was much quieter, as many of the other adventurers were nursing their hangovers. He spotted the grey dragonborn when breakfast was being served. They shared a pleasant conversation about wanting to spend more time together before either of their groups left town. Names and flirtatious glances were exchanged as well, though Zelfarian would forget the man’s name in time, as was typical for him anyway. As the conversation ended, Zelfarian spotted Koagal leaving the tavern with another party member, Urharkon. Reminded of the previous night’s frustrations, he went after them in hopes of confronting Koagal for his antics.

Zelfarian understood that he wasn’t exactly ‘tough’ yet it did not stop him from antagonizing two of his much stronger companions. Urharkon, who had sworn his loyalty and ridiculous troll strength to Koagal’s interests, did not take kindly to this. The troll towered over him and made his threats, until he was pulled away suddenly. Koagal had also vanished, but Zelfarian made no attempt to find them again. After all, it was only last night that he almost got his shit kicked in for picking the wrong fight. If he allowed himself to repeat such mistakes too often, his adventuring days would not last long.

Another assignment completed led to another night spent at the tavern. Zelfarian looked around for the grey dragonborn, whom he soon saw was snogging with another man. He wasn’t upset, as he specifically avoided attachments. No, just disappointed in himself for missing his chance. Before he could even move on, however, yet another man stormed over. It seemed that the dragonborn had become acquainted with the newcomer’s lover, and a jealous brawl was on the horizon.

“Not in here! Take it outside,” he heard from the bartender. And just as he was looking elsewhere, there was a thump of dead weight. The two men had collapsed suddenly. The small crowd that gathered found they were dead, swiftly assassinated without anyone noticing. Zelfarian took the scene as an indicator to retire to a room for the night.

The lonely nights as of late truly tested his resolve. He thought he would be content for at least a few days with only his hand and some fantasizing about the dragonborn he had been pursuing. It only lasted a few hours. He awoke soon that same night with a persisting need. Every night that week became progressively worse. And this night he felt like a kettle about to boil over. Nothing he did was enough, though he was too frustrated to really do anything in the first place. It was so easy to pin that energy onto one person, the person he insistently blamed for his missed opportunity in the beginning. At this point, Zelfarian was foolishly obsessing over Koagal. If the man hadn’t been so dodgy with him, he would have written it off as the poorly timed antics of another everyday bard. But it clearly was not the case, as Koagal was no textbook bard. He was the secretive type, though Zelfarian could understand why after a few days of adventures with him revealed the man was a werewolf. Koagal was also quiet and a bit brooding, almost like one of those despairing types of musicians, except he didn’t really talk about his problems. And to make the whole situation very inconvenient, he was as slippery as a snake, and even more difficult to pin down.


	2. Chapter 2

That next day was all sorts of chaos, thanks to a certain werewolf. The group was preparing to head out, only Koagal was nowhere to be found. Eventually they carried out the task, only to arrive at the black market camp in shambles. Enslaved citizens were freed, various goods either destroyed or liberated, and-

A fucking dinosaur on the loose… No, not loose. It had a rider.

Just how in the hell Koagal managed to tame a Tyrannosaurus and storm the black market camp by himself would remain a mystery. Lily, a tiefling companion of theirs, gave him an earful for running off ahead.

As it turned out, the missing priestess had been there, bound in a cage to be sold into slavery. She was kept under Koagal’s watchful eye, not that she seemed to mind. And if that didn’t strike Zelfarian with jealousy- hang on, what? No, absolutely not. He needed a drink after this. And maybe a friend. At least he was certain the wizard girl, Arshahi, wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to drink. She was definitely the type that drank as much as she did to suppress things, and he might learn a thing or two from her.

The group returned to Cassomir, selling some of their new goods and returning items of worth that had been stolen by members of the black market. Word of the day’s exploits quickly got around, gaining their party some notoriety. Zelfarian didn’t see much of Koagal, or the priestess, that night. Arshahi had recently acquired a magical flask that never emptied, and he joined her in excessive drinking. Otherwise, that night was dreadfully uneventful.

There was some tension among the group the next day as they tried to plan their voyage to Magnamar, where the priestess needed to return to. Trouble was, the journey would take at least a month by boat. The priestess then offered an alternative: she could transport them all to Magnamar in an instant. He didn’t think it within her capabilities, but sure enough she could. Some ways outside of Cassomir, she cast Gate to allow the party instant passage into Magnamar. Why a priestess with such strong magic needed this group to rescue her was beyond him, but Zelfarian didn’t have it in him to care anymore.

Once in the city, the group brought the priestess straight to the Temple of Dezna. They were rewarded for completing the job and also given a blessing by Dezna, and even allowed to stay within the temple during their time in Magnamar.

Zelfarian followed after Koagal that evening, determined to speak with him. He found the man playing his flute and approached him.

“Hey, look… can we just, talk for a minute?” Zelfarian spoke first. To his surprise, Koagal didn’t immediately run off, but he kept playing his flute. He sighed, “I don’t know if there’s… something going on here that I’m not aware of. Between you and me, I mean.” Silence. “All I know is, you act strange around me. Can you just… tell me what’s going on? Like why do you care what I do on my own time?”

Koagal lowered his flute now, almost glaring at him. “That’s where you’re mistaken. I don’t care about you or anyone. Anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong.” Zelfarian looked him in the eye, searching for any hint that maybe he was hiding something. He hoped to find that Koagal was deceiving him, just trying to convince him otherwise. “I’m just here to do what I was hired to do. None of you really matter to me.”

Zelfarian turned away. “Fine then. So be it.” He walked off aimlessly. There was no point in hoping that Koagal felt otherwise, he knew that getting attached could be his downfall. What was said caused an ache in his chest, but it wouldn’t last. He could just climb into bed with someone else and be done with all these feelings. A bit of wandering brought him to a tavern where he drank and flirted. He cozied up to a rather burly human, never bothering to get the man’s name before going home with him. When he awoke early in the morning, plenty of time before the dawn, he only felt bitter and disappointed. Zelfarian snuck out of the man’s house without so much as a note, returning to the temple to sleep alone.

Much of the day had passed and Koagal was again, nowhere to be found. It should have been better that way, not having to look at him or go out of his way to avoid an awkward interaction. And yet, Zelfarian missed seeing him around. He spent some hours back in his room at the temple, contemplating everything that had happened. Not just since he joined this adventuring party, but all the way back to when he left home.

For fifty-five years of his life, his whole world was just him and his parents at their homestead. He was an obedient and hard working son, though with an elderly human father and a strict drow mother he sort of had no choice. It was when his parents sent him out to hunt alone that Zelfarian took his chance at some freedom. He detoured to the nearest town, taking time to explore and mingle and spend the night at an inn. And fate seemed to punish him for the selfish adventure. When he returned to his homestead, it was reduced to smoldering embers, clearly having been raided first. The corpses of his parents were left in the field, squashing any hope that either might have escaped. He ventured off to town, and unable to face his guilt there, he kept going until he reached the next one.

The more he thought back to Koagal, the less he could deny it. Their conversation last night left him heartbroken. In other words, he certainly had developed romantic feelings for the other man. Why didn’t he just tell him so? Would Koagal have responded differently if he hadn’t been so hostile? Could he have developed similar feelings in time if Zelfarian wasn’t so absorbed in his pettiness?

That was it, he thought to himself as he stood and left the room. This time he wouldn’t drown in his self pity and question with what-ifs. He was going to find Koagal and see if he could salvage this.

It was almost sunset when he spotted Koagal walking through the streets. The man seemed in a good mood, strangely. That made Zelfarian hesitate a little to outright approach him. He settled for following him until he was in a place that would make approaching him more casual. Much to Zelfarian’s confusion, Koagal left the city itself. It was somewhat of a struggle to keep up as the werewolf travelled through dense forest. After some time, he nearly lost track of Koagal. By some stroke of luck, that was when he reached a sort of clearing in the woods with tents and huts scattered around. There were people going about their usual day, about half of them human, and the rest were clearly werewolves. Though perhaps they all were werewolves and some just preferred to present as human, like Koagal. Could this be where Koagal was raised?

Before any of them could really question Zelfarian’s presence, several blasts were heard. He saw pillars of fire erupting throughout the village. Chaos ensued and screams pierced the night as men ran into the scene, cutting down the inhabitants. Time almost slowed for Zelfarian as his mind struggled to process the sudden change in his surroundings. This secluded place was home to many. It was being attacked, those who resided here slaughtered before they could react. He had followed Koagal here. Koagal’s home… Koagal… 

The distant memory of a house in charred ruins flashed before him. The memory of parents he should have stayed long enough to bury, but he was too in shock to do anything but run.

Zelfarian ran, not away, but towards the burning huts and tents. He had to find Koagal, had to make sure he could get out alive. One of the larger huts was ablaze, but holding. There was movement inside, people trying to get out. He rushes in to help. The people are panicked, but don’t question his aid. Koagal is not among them, so he keeps looking. The smoke is thick, but he hasn’t suffered any major burns. It was just getting hard to breathe. He would be okay, just… just had to find Koagal. Where was Koagal? Zelfarian barely registers that he is coughing when everything goes dark.


End file.
